


kisses sweeter than wine

by loracarol



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Introspection, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 00:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16629173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loracarol/pseuds/loracarol
Summary: Joaquín really wants to kiss Manolo.A study through the years.





	kisses sweeter than wine

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to anyone who was expecting an update on my other fics - I was cleaning out my gdrive, and found this one I had never actually posted, so I figured eyyyyy what the hell. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

1.

Manolo’s mother dies when they’re both young, so young, that Joaquin almost doesn’t believe it at first. He liked Manolo’s mother, she was soft, and sweet, and had a lovely singing voice that Manolo tries to imitate.

 

He is not so young that he doesn’t know what death _is_. No, he had lived with that knowledge since the first time someone told him about his father, and his bravery. But, Manolo’s mother was untouchable, off limits.

 

He finds Manolo hiding in his room during the wake. Joaquin can’t blame him; there are so many people downstairs.

 

“Hey” he says, joining Manolo by the window. He doesn’t know what else to say that hasn’t already been said a hundred times by everyone downstairs. Manolo looks up briefly, before he drops his head once more to his knees. It’s enough of an acknowledgement for Joaquin, and he sits down, throwing one arm around Manolo’s shoulder.

 

Amidst his grief, a tiny spark of joy lights up at the contact; he hasn’t been so close to someone since his own mother left him in San Angel. He hopes the contact helps Manolo, too, as they sit and watch the sky change as the clouds blow it.

 

 

2.

Joaquin Mondragon is 13-years-old the first time he thinks about kissing this best friend. It’s sunset, and they’re both out of training for the day--“ _Finally_ ,” Manolo had said with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s been doing that a lot lately, ever since his dad took his guitar away. Joaquin hopes that Manolo will get it back soon; it hasn’t been destroyed, Señor Sanchez never destroyed the guitar when he took it away. He just held onto it, wanting Manolo to get his head out of the clouds, to stop focusing on music-making, and focus instead on his training.

 

Joaquin _wants_ Manolo to focus more on his training; bulls are terrifying animals, even the smaller ones that Manolo practices with, and Joaquin has seen too many bruises on his friend’s body already.

 

They’re on the outskirts of the city, watching the sun go down, and eating two pilfered mangos. The light of the sinking sun is throwing highlights into Manolo’s dark hair, glimmers of red and orange that shine like fire.

 

Joaquin swallows hard, and tries to ignore the way that his throat goes dry when Manolo licks his lips, tries to ignore the fact that Manolo’s lips look so very soft, and would probably taste like mangos.

 

He is Joaquin Mondragon, he is going to be the hero of the town, and he loves _Maria_.

 

He knows he should leave.

 

He doesn’t.

 

 

3.

 Sometimes Joaquin forgets how dangerous Manolo’s career is. No, he doesn't fight bandits, but in some ways, Joaquin thinks, the bulls are worse.

 

It’s been three years since the first time he thought about kissing Manolo, and try as he might, the thought has never gone away in its entirety. Instead he’s been ignoring it, pushing it down, and telling himself that it’s because he misses Maria so much. He tells himself that he only wants to be with Manolo because Maria isn’t there...

 

 _Manolo_ who is lying unconscious in the Casa Sanchez, having taking a bad hit from a bull. Only the slight up and down of his chest tells Joaquin that his friend is still alive. “Luckily” the injury was not as bad as it could have been, but Joaquin still hates it. He became the hero to protect San Angel, and everyone in it, Manolo included.

 

He hates that there are things he cannot protect Manolo from.

 

Looking around to make sure he’s alone, he sits down in a chair that’s next to Manolo’s bed. Not sure what to say, he watches instead, watching and hoping that Manolo will get up soon. For a moment, he’s tempted to put his medal on Manolo, but he resists; he’s tried that before, and it never has worked. The medal only prevents injury, it seems, it does not heal pre-existing wounds.

 

Someone starts calling for Joaquin downstairs, and he frowns. He wants to stay, but the voice is the General’s, and he has a Responsibility.

 

“You’d better be up soon,” he mutters, brushing down the beginnings of a mustache in a nervous gesture. He stands up, and for a minute, he just stares. Then, before he can change his mind, he dips down, and brushes his lips across Manolo’s forehead before leaving the room. It’s not his lips, but it is good enough.

 

 

4.

 He doesn’t like to talk about Manolo’s death.

 

He doesn’t like to _think_ about Manolo’s death.

 

Maria had died first, but she had come back to life. Manolo… Manolo _hadn’t_.

 

And then he was _right there_.

 

Joaquin was in no way jealous of Maria when Manolo swept her into a kiss.

 

He _wasn’t_.

 

 

5.

 Maria invites him to the bullfighting ring early one morning, carrying two practice swords and a cup of coffee. Manolo is behind her, still bleary-eyed, and yawning.

 

Manolo was never a morning person.

 

“Buenos Dias, Joaquin!” Maria says, handing him the coffee. “I noticed that you were having some trouble since,” she waved at her own eye in sympathy, “and I thought we could practice together?”

 

“And you, Manolo?” Joaquin asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I have things I want to do,” he said with a yawn, “and I wanted to watch.”

 

“Please?” Maria said, eyes wide, “I haven’t had a good sword partner in _forever_.”

 

Joaquin rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Fine.” he muttered.

 

It'd only been a couple of days since their wedding, but if this is how the two newly-weds want to spend their day, he won’t complain.

 

When they get to the bullfighting ring, Joaquin is surprised to find various things have already been set up: wooden practice dummies, some old weights, and a couple of wooden contraptions that he wasn’t quite sure of. Manolo went over to those while Joaquin and Maria headed over to a ring that had been scratched in the dirt. At first, Joaquin tried to keep an eye on what Manolo was doing, but it became obvious far too quickly that he couldn't afford to do that.

 

His first fight with Maria is honestly kind of _pathetic_. He has no depth perception with the one eye, and he doesn’t land a single hit on Maria, even as she gets him time after time. Finally they stop, and she holds her sword out evenly.

 

“Don’t try and hit it, just try to meet my sword with yours.”

 

Joaquin does, but he’s still off. Maria doesn’t move, though, and she motions for him to keep going. When their swords finally meet, he marks how it looks in his memory, trying to memorize the exact details of what his life is going to be like, now.

 

It’s not until they decide to take a break that Joaquin has a chance to look over at what Manolo has been doing. Manolo is hanging upside down from one of the wooden structures, and has been rolling his body up. He also had taken off his shirt at some point.

 

“Dios Mio,” Maria says with a smile, “I must be the luckiest woman in San Angel.”

 

If it had been anyone but Manolo, Joaquin would have been insulted. He swallows hard.

 

“You really are,” he says, hoping that he’s not blushing like he thinks he is. “I mean, Manolo is--” he struggles to think of how to describe him, before giving up and motioning at his _hermano_ , “Manolo. Any woman in town would have been lucky to have him, but he only ever had eyes for you.”

 

Maria gave him a look, studying him for an uncomfortable moment, before she threaded their arms together and dragged him over to Manolo. “It’s lunch time Manolo, come on!”

 

“I can go if you want it to be a married couple thing,” Joaquin said, watching Maria fuss over Manolo as he pulled a shirt on.

 

“We want you with us,” Maria said, smoothing Manolo’s shirt.

 

“We do,” Manolo said, more awake, “I feel like I haven’t seen very much of you since the wedding! How have you been doing?”

 

Filling the air with small talk, they walked out of the bullfighting ring.

 

 

6.

Joaquin loves Maria. Joaquin loves Manolo.

 

He wouldn’t be able to ever answer the question of who he loved more; his feelings for them were the same, really. He had thought—hoped—that his feelings were the same because he thought of them both as friends. As his _dearest_ friends, but just as friends.

 

He would have married Maria if she had loved him, and had thought once that he could have learned to love her differently from the way he loved Manolo, love her the way a wife _ought_ to be loved.

 

He tried to ignore the fact that he loved Maria more than just as a friend; it meant that he loved _Manolo_ more than just as a friend. He could handle loving Manolo, even if he hid it deep, but loving them both?

 

He wondered what god had cursed him to be in love with both parts of a married couple.

 

 

7.

Joaquin is playing drunk spin-the-bottle with Maria and Manolo, and his one last sober thought is that maybe playing spin-the-bottle with a married couple isn’t his best idea, but that thought is brushed away when Maria hands him more Mezcal. He hadn’t intended to stay so late; he had been invited to dinner, but dinner had turned into reminiscing, and the reminiscence had turned into drunken stories of past heroics…. He’s not sure when they started playing spin-the-bottle, but he thinks it might have had to do with them emptying the first bottle of Mezcal.

 

He spins the bottle, and the bottle lands on Manolo. Suddenly, he can’t breathe.

 

“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want,” Manolo says, so close that Joaquin can lean their foreheads together.

 

“And if I want to,” Joaquin asks quietly and drunk.

 

“Then we should be waiting to have this conversation when you’re not drunk,” Manolo says seriously, but he doesn’t move away.

 

Joaquin thinks he can hear Maria say something, and then he remembers that she’s still in the room, and jerks away, “Maria, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean--”

 

Maria smiles, “Manolo, you’re right, we should wait to have this conversation when he’s sober. Joaquin, I _am_ okay with this.”

 

Joaquin blinked at her, and then Manolo is there and kissing him. “Let’s get you to bed,” Manolo says once he’s done, standing up, and helping Joaquin do the same. “In the morning, we need to talk.”

 

 

 

8. 

In the morning the three of them talk.

 

Among other things.

 

Joaquin likes the other things. Quite a lot, actually.

 

Manolo doesn’t actually taste like mangoes, but he can live with that.

 


End file.
